


History Knocking On My Door

by Etched_in_Fire



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Spoilers, original timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:50:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etched_in_Fire/pseuds/Etched_in_Fire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You are the last line of defense."  Chrom said to his daughter before his departure to fight the Grimleal and halt the Awakening of Grima.  But after a week passes, Lucina grows worried that something has happened to her father, and to the army he took with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	History Knocking On My Door

**Author's Note:**

> Labeled as multi-chaptered for now. Could potentially be a single work.

            The throne was an uncomfortable chair, not at all like how she imagined it would be.  Her father had made everything seem so easy.  The flick of his hand and everything was settled.  But to her, it was different.  Every audience held in the throne room made her heart thunder with anxiety.  Was she going to rule justly?  Would her father approve of how she handled each issue in turn?  _I don’t feel like a princess.  I never have,_ she thought, her fingers drumming against the arm rests. _I’ll never feel like an Exalt either._

            They had made her wear a dress of blue and white, somewhere between sleek and wavy.  She did not mind it so much as the shoes, though, sitting on the throne relieved her of the biting pain in her heels.  _When I am the true Exalt, I will order cushions for this throne,_ she thought. _Or suggest it to Father when he returns.  Either way, this chair is insufferable._

              They had left over a week ago, and Lucina could have sworn they would have returned by now.  But she was reassured over and over again by her attendants and advisors that the mission would be a success.  The Grimleal would be brought to their knees and the Fell Dragon would not rise--- those were their promises. _If only it were that easy.  Had the Fire Emblem not been stolen, we might not have been in this mess._ It had been a night well before her birth, the assassination of the aunt she had never known—Emmeryn, the former Exalt.  The Fire Emblem had been taken at some point during the chaos.  _And with the gemstones being united at last… the Grimleal could feasibly bring the dragon back…_ Even her mother had seemed concerned about it, and the ever-wise tactician-queen was not one to be anxious easily.  _She always comes through in the end,_ reasoned the princess.  _She always finds a way._  

            Lucina sighed, troubled, scratching at her nape as the doors open, nearly jolting her from her chair. _News?_ Asked her mind for the thousandth time that day, but she found only a small handful of guards, escorting a man who looked to be a farmer, judging by his poorly spun threads that hung about his caved-in chest. _Another audience,_ she thought, resting the urge to slump back in the uncomfortable throne.  _I have to look my best.  Father would want that._  

            “All hail Lucina, princess of Ylisse and reigning sovereign until the return of the Exalt!” came the announcer in his booming, articulate voice, and the graying farmer bowed his head, taking to a knee.

            “Rise,” Lucina said, trying to fight off a tone of irked disappointment. “I will hear your troubles, sir.” _If only Father could have brought me with him.  He’s taught me how to use a blade.  I can almost beat him now.  Morgan could have handled these duties.  He’s a thinker, just like Mother is.  He’d make a better substitute ruler than I would._   But as of late, her younger brother had taken to spending the long days of anguished waiting in the library.  Pouring over tomes, no doubt.  Morgan always had a fascination with learning history that Lucina could never understand.  _What’s important is how we face the problems of the future… Be it one farmer’s woes at a time._

“Honorable p-princess,” the farmer fumbled, his drawl grating enough to curdle milk. “There’s Risen all about the fields, milady.  They been wreckin’ everything.  I lost two o’ my best dairy cows to those _fiends!”_ _There’s Risen everywhere. In the fields.  In the woods.  In the mountains.  And they’ll only get closer to the capital…_ But the man continued, “We need more soldiers out there, milady.  People are dyin’.”

            “Most of the soldiers left for Plegia when my father went to end the Grimleal’s plans,” Lucina began, hesitating, “But as the acting ruler, I cannot let innocent people die.”  To her attendant, she asked, “How many can we spare?”

            “A dozen at best, my lady,” the attendant replied with a small, apologetic bow.

            _That’ll hardly help at all,_ Lucina thought in an attempt to erase the frustration in her eyes. _Who’s left in this castle?  Freder-_ No, he had gone with her lord father.  _Sir Kell—_ Also gone.  _Lady Sul—_ Gone, gone, everyone was _gone_.  “Send for my cousin, Owain,” Lucina decided, “He’s been itching for something to do.”  _Him, Cynthia, Kjelle... They’ll be as good as any captains._   Viewed as children or not, they had been sharpening their blades since the day that the Exalt had left with his gathered forces.  _We’re the last line of defense.  That’s what Father told me the day he left.  The homefront needs to be protected._

            “Owain will lead a counterattack.  He will take Kjelle and Cynthia with him,” Lucina decided, voice ringing clear in the hall.  _I wonder if that’s a good choice.  Owain is hotheaded.  Cynthia is… Cynthia.  Kjelle might be able to rein them both back in, but that’s only if she cares enough to…_

            “My lady, is it wise to—” the attendant began.

            “Cynthia will be fine,” Lucina blinked at the attendant.  When her mother had died two years past, the dark-haired girl had taken to training in the yard with her mother’s Pegasus and a lance.  _She wants to join the Pegasus Knights.  She’ll be good enough to someday…_ Lady Sumia’s loss had devastated the castle for weeks, and each night Lucina had passed by Cynthia’s door, sobbing could be heard.  But each morning, the vibrant girl had awoken with enough zeal to motivate an entire army. 

            “It was not Cynthia in which I was speaking of…” the attendant looked even more apologetic. “It was—”

            “Owain will also be fine,” Lucina reassured her, “He has been stalking the halls and waiting for something to occupy his time.”

            “If you insist…” the blonde woman winced visibly, but fell silent.

            Lucina turned to the farmer, mustering a smile of comfort.  At least, she hoped it looked more comforting than it felt.  “My dear cousin Owain will lead a force to aid the people in the fields outside of Ylisstol.  He’s a proven warrior.  He will surely rid the farmlands of the Risen.”

            “Thank you, kind princess…” the farmer gave a bow and was escorted out.  As the attendant hurried off to go find Owain, Lucina shifted in the throne.

            _I don’t know if I can stand another hour of this,_ she thought, running her fingers through her sapphire hair. _If I was able to, I’d join Owain in a heartbeat.  But someone has to sit the throne…_ She contemplated finding Morgan and asking him to look over things while she was gone, but guilt overpowered her and the princess settled back into the throne.   _I should get something to eat before too long.  And make sure Morgan’s fed.  He gets so wrapped up in his studies sometime…_

            The doors opened with an inward swing, and Lucina lifted her gaze.  Two men walked in, the first an entire head taller than the second.  “Gerome?” Lucina rose from the throne.  _His mother left him here when she went off to war.  He was as pleased with that as I was…_ He wore a simple tunic of black and gold trim, a small axe at his hip.  Behind him trailed a man, covered from head-to-toe in patches of fur. With each step, his massive rabbit’s ears flopped, and Lucina found herself running down the steps leading to the Ylissean throne.  _“Yarne?”_

            “H-hey, long time no see,” the half-taguel scratched the back of his neck. “Been a few years, huh…”

            “I found him outside of the gates,” Gerome said in his typical grave, deep voice. “He was banging on them with a horde of Risen at his back.”

            “Hehe… yeaaah…” Yarne replied with an uncertain chuckle, “They’ve really been springing up everywhere lately.  Couldn’t find a uh… safe place to hunker down, so I decided to come here instead!”

            Gerome’s nose wrinkled, and he tossed a glance at Lucina, “Pardon me.  I will resume my duties.” With a shrill _squeak_ of boots on the stone floor, he abruptly turned and walked away, his shoulder cape swirling behind him. 

            “Well, _he_ hasn’t changed,” Yarne remarked.

            “It’s been a hard year,” Lucina answered, voice wavering with thought.

            Over the years, the Risen had began manifesting in greater numbers.  That had been the first clue that not all was well in the world, despite the fall of the tyrant Walhart.  Lucina recalled Yarne’s parents vaguely—the Sir Stahl of Ylisse, who had died defending the countryside from the Risen hordes, and Panne, who had once been the last taguel before Yarne’s birth.  After their deaths, Yarne had stayed for awhile in the castle, at the behest of the Exalt and his wife.  But when Yarne came of age, he had decided to go out and make an attempt to find other taguels.  From what Lucina could gather, he had little success in his endeavor.

            “You _are_ welcome here, of course,” Lucina nodded to him after embracing him briefly (she always found that his fur tickled her when she hugged him).  “I’m glad you’re safe.  There’ve been many attacks near Ylisstol.  In fact, Owain is on his way out to deal with the current horde.”

            “Owain?” Yarne frowned at her, “What happened to the grumpy guy?  Oh, y’know… the captain of the knights?  F… Fre….”

            “Frederick is with my father, headed to Plegia to deal with the Grimleal,” Lucina replied shortly, and Yarne’s eyes stretched wide with shock. “I… suppose it’d be best to fill you in, then.  Come on, let’s get some food and we’ll talk.” With a sigh, the princess beckoned the two to follow her.  _At least I’ll escape my princess duties for now…_ She thought, a half-smile on her face.

            The throne room was left abandoned, and Lucina was certain that she would hear about it later.  However, she found little to no regret in escaping to the dining hall with Yarne, her worries vanishing more and more with each step away from the throne room.  _Maybe this is what I needed… a small break and a chat with friends…_

            “What do you want to eat?” she asked as soon as they stepped into the massive dining hall.

            “Something without potatoes,” Yarne replied and Lucina ended up telling the chefs to bring out whatever they had available.  The result was berry tea with cheese-filled pastries, which Lucina did not mind in the slightest.  Yarne did not seem to oppose it either, judging from how he gorged himself.

            “Plegia has a new ruler,” Lucina began, watching the half-taguel slurp down his tea. “A man named Validar.  He’s also the head of the Grimleal.  I suppose that’s when Father really started getting suspicious.  They concluded that the Risen were coming from Plegia… where the Fire Emblem is.”

            “The Fire Emblem?  Oh yeaaaaahhh, that shield with the stone-thingies in it…” Yarne swallowed, “I remember hearing about it.”

            “When my Aunt Emmeryn was assassinated, it was stolen in the melee.  My father was critically injured and couldn’t stop it.  We had been wondering what the Plegians had done with it since.  I suppose they had been trying to find the gemstones…” Lucina sighed, “And Father fears that they found the final one.  That’s why he departed, and with most of Ylisse’s army, too.”

            “Hence why Owain is out fighting Risen and everyone looks like they’ve been at a year-long funeral,” Yarne replied, and when Lucina averted his gaze, his ears rose with alarm. “You don’t mean…”

            “We’ve lost a lot of good people,” Lucina shook her head, “A lot of friends and family, too.  And I’m afraid we’ll only lose more.”

            “But your dad’s got this.  He’s… He’s a good guy.  And good guys… always win,” Yarne tried to comfort her, but his words were as frail as glass. “Soon, they’ll come back.  You’ll see.”

            “I hope you’re right, Yarne,” Lucina replied, trying to sound as optimistic as she could. 


End file.
